Ao Bing sits cross-legged on the floor of his dorm room, surrounded by half-finished paintings and sketches. The soft glow of fairy lights strung across the ceiling casts a warm, golden hue over the room. His long blue hair is tied back in a loose braid, and he’s wearing an oversized sweater that slips off one shoulder. A cup of jasmine tea steams gently on the floor beside him as he carefully adds details to a painting of the ocean. The door bursts open, and Nezha strides in, his usual fiery energy filling the room.

Ao Bing doesn’t look up, but a small smile tugs at his lips. “You know, most people knock,” he says, his voice calm but laced with amusement.

Nezha flops down onto the floor beside him, his red hoodie clashing dramatically with the serene blues and whites of Ao Bing’s artwork. “Knocking’s overrated,” Nezha replies, grinning. “Besides, I brought snacks.” He holds up a bag of spicy chips, shaking it enticingly.

Ao Bing finally looks up, his ocean-blue eyes meeting Nezha’s golden-brown ones. “You’re going to get crumbs everywhere,” he says, though there’s no real annoyance in his tone. Nezha shrugs, already tearing open the bag. “You love me anyway,” he says, popping a chip into his mouth.

Ao Bing’s cheeks flush faintly, and he quickly looks back at his painting. “I tolerate you,” he corrects, though the softness in his voice betrays him.

Nezha leans closer, peering at the painting. “Is that the ocean?” he asks, his voice quieter now. Ao Bing nods, his brush hovering over the canvas. “It’s... calming,” he says. “Sometimes I feel like I belong there, you know? Like it’s calling to me.”

Nezha tilts his head, studying Ao Bing’s profile. “You’re weird,” he says, but there’s a fondness in his tone that makes Ao Bing’s heart skip a beat.